AN: Hey! Sorry it's been a hot minute since I updated... Things have been busy. I'm training my dogs as always and dealing with a bit of work stress that kinda has left me really mentally drained. I'm still slowly working on finishing this story as well as Glorious. Butterflies & Hurricanes is still on an indefinite hiatus... Or at least until Popstar and Glorious are completed so I can give it my full attention. I'm actually in the process of slowly re reading it so it's all fresh in my mind when I start on it again. Rest assured- it hasn't been abandoned.
Please give a shoutout to Dragonbabezee for betaing for me! All her works are amazing, but if you haven't already, Check out her story Never Ever Land! It's absolutely fantastic! And it has everything- action, romance, adventure, comedy, suspense and a feel good nostalgia vibe for the good old days of Dragonball and DragonballZ and an addictive plotline.
Thank you for reading! :D
The Popstar
Chapter 16
A month had passed. The paparazzi and media attention had not let up. If anything, Bulma's staying in seemed to build more speculation. According to the tabloids she was definitely in rehab, or hiding a baby bump, or ordered to be on strict bed rest because of a difficult pregnancy, and if it was none of those something more nefarious going on.
Conspiracy theories about her being brainwashed and programmed were gaining momentum, as well as speculation that Vegeta was a jealous, controlling boyfriend who was out to destroy her career. Rumours over her being fired and sued by the label because of the charity performance were also flying around.
It was all nonsense, and she was easily able to ignore it, but their relentless pursuit aggravated Vegeta to no end; especially when they published or posted photos of him looking his usual unimpressed self and then made false assumptions about his character and intentions towards her. He still refused to speak with them every morning on his walks with Justice, which only seemed to fuel the rumours of his controlling nature.
Yamcha had called her a few times. He was not happy with her photo and tags she'd posted of herself and Justice because she'd essentially gone back on the "apology" he'd added to her statement. That had resulted in a heated argument between them. Bulma had not fired him over it, but the two of them were not on good terms and he only called when necessary.
Yamcha agreed that it was a good idea for Bulma to post regularly on her social media while off as it would help dispel the pregnancy and rehab rumours (though she blamed him for the rehab rumour). Truthfully, she hadn't felt like posting anything on her social media as of late. Bulma hadn't told Vegeta, but he'd fallen asleep on the couch with her during a movie one evening. She'd taken a selfie of the two of them and shared it on her social media with a cute caption about Netflix and chill. It had been met with mostly positive responses and swooning from fans and the odd negative comment about her being off or asking about some tinfoil hat conspiracy surrounding her. Her favourite ridiculous comment had been someone asking if she was in trouble and needing rescuing from Vegeta to wear a red shirt in her next post. She'd thought of doing it just to troll, but thought better of it in case the person was serious. She hadn't mentioned anything to Vegeta either because she knew how he felt about it, but she'd wanted to post something nice with him in it to hopefully alleviate the negative opinions some seemed to have about him. It bothered her. No one knew him, but everyone seemed to have an opinion about him.
Vegeta had taken Bulma to the shooting range once. She had put in great effort to make sure they weren't followed by the paparazzi. It had been a lot of fun until someone had tipped their location off and they'd needed to leave, which had been an ordeal. They'd even abandoned their plans to go out and have a beer and wings afterwards. Since then, they stayed in, but did everything together. They worked out together; Bulma practiced her dancing to keep that up while Vegeta pumped iron.
Vegeta pretended every day to not notice how good she looked, and she pretended the same about him, yet in the evenings, he'd let her settle close to him on the couch while they watched tv. He was still wrestling with his decision where Bulma and the parameters of their relationship was concerned; he appreciated that she seemed alright with things as they were. Sure they flirted and bantered back and forth, but she was not constantly trying to entice him.
His father called him every few days, but he never answered. The fact that the man couldn't be bothered to leave him a message just further confirmed that he himself had nothing to say to him and therefore, he couldn't be bothered to answer or return the call. He already knew his father was not happy with him - he did not need another lecture.
Vegeta made sure Bulma wasn't over extending herself with her workouts. She was careful about her alcohol intake; she hadn't over indulged since the evening in the hot tub. She took lots of naps and they had a few shows they'd binge watched together. They cooked together and Bulma was figuring out that she actually didn't mind cooking for herself, especially with Vegeta for company.
All in all, they had a very comfortable routine set in place together.
On this particular morning, when Vegeta had finally returned from his walk, there was a plain, brown envelope addressed to Bulma with no return address, placed on the morning newspaper.
Vegeta frowned at it, but brought it in with the newspaper, being careful to not touch it. "This came with your newspaper."
Bulma was already up enjoying a coffee. "It's probably just junk."
She looked at it and shrugged before opening it. There was just her name scrolled on it. No stamp, no return address. She carefully opened the top and slid out several 8.5x11 photographs of her and Vegeta from the show. Half of them were in colour, the other half were black and white. All high definition, good quality. They were the same size as the last batch of photos she'd been sent after the club shooting and seemed to be in the same type of envelope.
"Looks like someone sent me photos from the show," she said nonchalantly, looking through them. "No biggie. It happens sometimes. Photographers send me photos before selling them to the tabloids."
Bulma smiled at one that had been taken backstage, presumably right after the performance. She vaguely remembered collapsing against Vegeta as soon as it had been done. It wasn't raunchy or inappropriate, but it looked intimate. She was leaning right into him, her head on his chest, his arms around her and looking down at her in what she thought looked like concern. It was a rare moment where he did not look angry. He still looked intense, but it looked like he sincerely cared.
"What's on the back?" Vegeta asked, pointing to the photo. She turned it around.
You betrayed me! Was written on the back in a black marker.
Her stomach dropped and she swallowed a lump threatening to crawl out of her throat as she stared at it.
"Not this again," she said quietly to herself, not bothering to look at any more of the photos and walking away. "I can't do this again… not again."
Vegeta came up closer to the countertop to look at the rest of the pictures and looked in the envelope to make sure nothing else was there. There wasn't. No note. No card. No watermarks on the photos. No anything to trace this back to anyone.
"There was a large crowd of photographers outside this morning when I went to take Justice for a walk. I will check the camera surveillance to see who dropped it off," he said, grabbing his phone and logging into the security app. He was quiet as he quickly scrolled through the footage from the morning. He saw himself leaving the apartment with Justice for their walk and stopped the fast forward. He let it run a few minutes before resuming the fast forward until the elevator doors to Bulma's floor opened up. Someone stepped out and walked up to Bulma's apartment door.
Vegeta sighed in frustration as he watched them place the envelope, along with the newspaper, down and go back to the elevator. He put down his phone.
"Who was it?" Bulma asked.
"Your mother," he said. "Do they have security cams and surveillance on their side of the compound?"
"Hmm, no. I don't think so. I can call her and ask, though." Bulma said, grabbing her phone and calling her mother.
"Good morning, mom, how are you?" she asked, putting her on speakerphone. "I have you on speaker. Vegeta is here too."
"Ohh, good morning, you two!" she said cheerfully. "How are you feeling, sweetie?"
"I'm feeling fine, mom. I did have a question for you though,"
"What's that?"
"This morning, when you dropped off my newspaper, there was a brown envelope with it addressed to me."
"That's right, what about it, dear?"
"Did you happen to see who dropped off the envelope?"
"I didn't, sweetie. It was in the flyer box at the front door," her mother answered. "Why?"
"No reason," Bulma shook her head. "Was just curious."
"Is there something wrong?"
Vegeta silently shook his head.
"No, mom, everything is fine," Bulma said quickly, agreeing with Vegeta that it was likely best that they keep this between them for now. "It just had photos someone had taken from the charity concert last month and I wanted to thank them, is all."
"Oh how nice!" her mother exclaimed. "You two looked absolutely wonderful together! I'm glad someone captured that for you."
"Thanks, mom," she said. "You haven't gotten any, like, security surveillance stuff recently, have you?"
Her mother chortled. "Oh, heavens, no. Sweetie, you know how we feel about that. It's a complete invasion of privacy! Not to mention this is our home! Now I understand why you've decided that is the right decision for you, but your father and I feel it is unnecessary for us."
Vegeta sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. One of the most well-known and financially wealthy families in the world and little to no property surveillance or security measures in place. He could not understand that.
"No, I get it, mom," Bulma said, taking the phone off speaker and taking a few more minutes to talk to her before hanging up.
"I've wondered before, but why is it that you and your parent's home and compound are not fenced off with surveillance cameras and security outside the gates?" Vegeta asked once she was off the phone, trying not to sound as annoyed as he actually was.
"Dunno. Mum and Dad won't hear of it," Bulma shrugged, putting her phone down on the countertop. "I think it's come up a few times, but Mum thinks it will make home feel like jail."
He shook his head. He'd wondered many times why they were so lax on security measures, but had not asked about it, feeling it was not his place. However, maybe it was? "Well had there been surveillance cameras, we might have been able to see who it was who dropped this off," he said, still trying to not sound irritated.
"You can try talking to Mum, but I doubt it will do any good," she said. "I'm going to try real hard to not stress over this. I'm off and going to relax. It might not even be from him. For all we know, it's from some other crazy fan. It's happened before."
"Did the person who abducted you mention they were sending you photos?"
"I actually can't remember," she answered after a moment's thought. "I was getting a bunch of creepy messages for a few months before it happened and just assumed that it was him. He'd said he was at every local performance that I'd done in the months leading up to it."
"And you mentioned that Yamcha had all the notes that you'd received from him?"
"Either he has them, or the police do,"
"Did he send photos like this?" Vegeta asked. "Candid moments that you were unaware of anyone taking?"
"I don't remember, I guess?"
Vegeta sighed in annoyance.
"I'm sorry! I'm not trying to be unhelpful or difficult," she said. "I think I just repress a lot of the details that happened. I just want to forget about it and move on with my life."
"I understand," he nodded.
"I don't remember photos," she finally said after some thought. "I got cards, mostly letters. One time he sent flowers."
They were both quiet for a moment. Bulma looked through the photos again quickly before sighing heavily. "This isn't the first set of photos he's sent me recently, I think."
"What do you mean?" Vegeta asked, narrowing his eyes at her. "He has sent you something since the wine? When?"
"A while back, like after the night of the club shooting," she said. "The next day there was an envelope on my doorstep, just like this one; and it had several photographs of us together. I didn't think it was him though! I just assumed it was from one of the photographers who were there because the magazines and papers printed the same photos."
"Did he send a note or anything?"
"No, nothing," she shook her head. "I looked for a card or anything to indicate who had sent it, but there was nothing."
Vegeta didn't say anything for a long moment. "You should have told me about this,"
"I know," she agreed. "I didn't think it was a big deal; it didn't occur to me that it was him."
Bulma rushed from the kitchen and returned with the envelope and photos from the night of the club shooting and handed them to Vegeta.
He grunted and took a look at them. There was nothing suspicious about them; no note, card or even writing on the back of any of the photographs. Vegeta could understand why she had not been alarmed by it. "We do not know if these are from the same person, other than they came in the same envelope, correct?"
"Correct."
"That is a fair enough assumption on your part to make, but assuming it is from the same person, we should consider the possibility that he may be paparazzi."
Bulma screwed up her face in thought. "No," she said. "Whoever he is, I'm certain I'd never seen him before and I haven't seen him again since then, except for that time with Goku when you stayed here while the security system was being installed and I thought I'd heard him ask me something."
"You never saw him that day?"
"No. I just heard him. I'm not even sure it was real though," she said. "I was already upset because the interviewer had been pushing me to talk about it, so I was already on edge and then we were swarmed when we left the coffee shop; so I can't be certain."
Vegeta nodded. He understood that.
"I have an idea," she said.
"Hmmn," he grunted.
"Let's take a vacation," she said, reaching for her phone again. "I have a private yacht. We could hang there for a while. No one would bother us, we could both just relax; just the two of us. I know how to sail it. All we'd need to do is stock up on food and other essentials, get it fueled up and go. What do you say?"
Vegeta thought about it for a moment. It wasn't a bad idea. They could get away from everything for a little while. The press, her tormentor. It might be fun. "We could do that."
She smiled at him and began scrolling through her phone to make the arrangements but realized she didn't have the contacts. "I'm going to have to go get the info from my mom," she said. "I forgot I got a new phone after my abduction because he kept it. I lost all my numbers."
"When was the last time you went sailing?" he asked.
"Oh boy, I don't know… A few years. I'm going to go over to my mom's and get the information to book it."
"You need to book your own boat?"
"Yea, my parents charter it out. May as well, since I hardly ever use it and they have their own they use quite frequently. So who knows, it may even be a few weeks before we can go if it's in use."
Bulma's phone dinged right then and she looked at it for a moment and spit out her coffee as she began to laugh hysterically.
Vegeta frowned at her. "What?"
She continued to laugh and stare at her phone a moment before she slid it across the counter top towards him.
Lapis had sent her a selfie of himself giving a thumbs up and wearing a white, fitted t-shirt that read Team Vegeta on it.
Vegeta frowned as he looked at it. "I don't get it," he finally said, sliding her phone back to her.
"I didn't tell you, but you have your own hashtag trending right now. It started a week or two after the charity performance," she told him, amusement written all over her face. She hadn't told him because she knew he hated the media circus. However this was too funny not to tell him.
"What the fuck is a trending hashtag?" he asked.
"I don't really understand it myself, but it's the thing with the pound sign or number symbol and then a name or a phrase after it. People add it to social media posts so others can see it. So if people wanted to look up… me, for example, they'd search my name and anything with a number thingy in front of my name would show up first. I think that's how it works?"
That sounded stupid. "What does that have to do with me?" he asked.
"Well since everyone thinks I'm with either you or Lapis, someone, I don't know who, started the trend of hashtag Team Vegeta and hashtag Team Lapis. Basically people choosing sides over who they think I should date," she laughed. "So Lapis got a Team Vegeta shirt to show support! Isn't that funny? He's gonna be photographed everywhere wearing it too! This is pure paparazzi gold!"
Vegeta shook his head. Whose business was it who Bulma dated and why did anyone feel the need to have an opinion?
"You should totally get a Team Lapis one! That would rile people up. Ohhh! We should see if there's a Team Bulma one and then you can wear it while out walking Justice just to troll everyone!"
"Yes, by all means, let's encourage them further," he said sourly.
"Oh lighten up!" she groaned. "This is one of the few instances where this stuff is actually fun and amusing. There were Team Yamcha and Lapis shirts like way back when rumours started up about Yamcha and I splitting up. Lapis had gotten a Team Lapis shirt back then because he doesn't like Yamcha. It was hilarious! So this is extra funny that he got a Team Vegeta shirt!"
"If you say so," he sighed.
"It's all in good fun," she insisted, trying to reassure him.
"Right, just make sure you are taking this seriously," he said, nodding at the photos she'd received that morning. "This isn't a joke."
"Alright, yea, I know," she rolled her eyes. "I'm thankful for the laugh though. I'm seriously getting you a shirt."
She finished her coffee and got dressed to go and see her mother. Vegeta stayed behind to work out.
There were a few paparazzi photographers still lingering around, but not as many as she'd assumed. Hopefully there was something else that would take priority soon. Sure she was used to it, but it absolutely aggravated Vegeta to no end. It dawned on her during her walk that Vegeta was right. Her parents should have some sort of surveillance on the property. It was a large property and literally anyone could walk through. She knew they would not listen to her, but maybe Vegeta could convince them.
She knocked on the door of her parent's home and her mother quickly answered. "Hello sweetie! What a pleasant surprise!"
"Hi Mom."
"I was just getting ready to make something for lunch, would you and Vegeta like to join?" she asked cheerfully, letting her in.
"I'd love to, but I came to see you because I was hoping to book my yacht. I don't have the phone number anymore."
"Your yacht?" Mrs. Briefs asked, raising her eyebrows in surprise.
"Yea."
"You sold it a few years back, dear," she informed her. "You don't remember? You haven't used it in over five years and the charter company offered to purchase it from you, seeing as you never use it."
Bulma frowned. "I do actually vaguely remember that, now that I think of it."
"Were you hoping to take a romantic vacation with Vegeta while you are off?" her mother smiled deviously.
Bulma shrugged. She didn't want to tell her mother that the main reason she wanted to go into seclusion for a little while. Not only had the photos and nasty message really freaked her out, but she was worried about Vegeta getting fed up with the paparazzi. If something miraculous happened between her and Vegeta while they were away, she definitely would not complain. However she was not about to hold her breath. They had managed to maintain a strictly platonic relationship since that drunken evening in the hot tub, though he didn't have a problem with it if she wanted to cuddle on the couch while watching television and she never pushed him for more than that. She knew he was under a lot of pressure to go back into deployment. She also knew his father had been calling him. She wasn't sure if Vegeta had talked to his father, but she knew he'd been calling him. Right now all she wanted was to escape everything - her stalker, the press, her job. All of it. And maybe that would be good for Vegeta as well so he could get some clarity on what he wanted to do.
"Well, I suppose there's always that possibility, but I just really wanted to get away for a little while where I won't be hounded by the paparazzi."
"You know they'll just follow you out there, hun," her mother said. "A PDA photograph of the two of you on a boat together would make someone a fortune."
"True, but I was hoping it may take them a few days or a week to realize we're even out there," Bulma said. "I thought maybe we could sail to one of the private vacation islands. I doubt Vegeta has ever been on a tropical vacation or anything like this. We could go out and not worry about being swarmed, leave before anyone can make it out to bother us." A real date, she thought to herself. Like a normal couple, without all the fuss.
"Well, when were you thinking of going? That sounds really nice. You can borrow your father's boat. We have some friends borrowing it for their fortieth wedding anniversary, and they will not be back for another two weeks or so, but that's alright seeing as this weekend is taken."
Bulma frowned. "Well I was hoping to leave as soon as possible, like within the next day or two but I guess we can wait. What's happening this weekend?"
"I see, you've forgotten, haven't you," her mother said curtly, clearly annoyed.
"Forgotten what?"
"The gala. This weekend."
Bulma groaned. "You're right, I completely forgot about that."
"Please make sure you make it this year, it's very important to your father and I."
"I will be there," she promised. She needed to go shopping for a new dress. "I'm sorry, things have been hectic."
"You should bring Vegeta as your plus one," her mother suggested subtly.
Bulma felt herself blush somewhat. "I'll ask him," she said. "Not sure if he'll be interested though. He may want the evening off."
"This would be for fun. It's here, so no risk. He would be off duty."
"I know," Bulma said. "But Vegeta doesn't really have… an off switch." She refrained from chuckling at that. It was the best way to describe him. The man was impossible. If he wasn't working and on his toes constantly around her, his idea of down time was meal prep, working his dog, or working out in the gym.
"All the same, it would be nice to see him come out socially."
Bulma nodded and headed back to her suite; her stomach flipping and she felt an adrenaline rush at the thought of asking him out to this. What if he said no? What if he felt like she was trying to pressure him into a relationship? They were currently in a sort of strange limbo. He wanted her, but he wanted his career too. Apparently his father had given him lots to think about. She wanted to respect him and give him his space so he could figure out what he wanted, but how long was she supposed to wait?
Sure enough, he was still in her gym working out. She grabbed a bottle of water for both of them and went to go join him.
He was in the middle of doing deadlifts.
"Aren't you supposed to not do those on your own?" she asked, leaning against the wall and sliding down the length to sit. Justice came to lay down on her lap and promptly rolled onto his back.
Vegeta grunted.
"So we're going to have to delay our boat trip for a few weeks or so," she started after a moment, scratching Justice's belly. She was actually thankful the Shepherd was there. She was drawing random patterns on his belly while figuring out an easy way to ask Vegeta out without asking him out.
"What happened?"
"Nothing, just I forgot that I sold my yacht. My mom said we can take theirs on a trip, but their friends have it at the moment and this weekend is the annual Capsule Corporation Gala," she sighed. "My parents throw it every year. It's a big deal, as they go all out. Tickets are usually sold out in a few hours and the proceeds from them go to the children's hospital. There are prizes for all the employees. They give away trips, vehicles, and expensive household things. They announce job opportunities too, so it's open to the public to apply. Like they offer work experience programs for kids in school, people can apply for scholarships to get into engineering. I forgot about it last year and couldn't book time off for it in time and my parents were pretty upset about it."
"When is it?"
"This Saturday evening," she said. "I was kinda wondering…"
"I will accompany you," he said.
She smiled. That was easy. "Good! I was hoping you'd say that, except I want you to come as my escort and not my bodyguard."
He didn't say anything for a moment and she began to panic. Had she been too forward?
"What I meant was… it's here, at the compound. Yes it's open to the public, but they need their tickets to come in. There's usually some press and media coverage there, but not a ton, so it's not a circus," she began rambling. "So there's no real need for your services, but I thought it would be fun…"
"I am fine with it," he said, feeling somewhat touched that she was obviously nervous about asking him to accompany her socially. In turn, he wasn't sure how to respond. He was still trying to figure out what to do. He knew he wanted her, but he was still trying to work out the best way to balance working and being with her romantically. As always, he over thought everything. The fact that his father had called him multiple times in the last three weeks was not helping him figure out what he wanted either. So far, he was just avoiding him and not taking the calls, which was something he'd never done in the past. "I'll assume this is a formal function?"
"It is."
"I do not have anything suitable to wear to such an event," he said.
"Yea, we'll both have to go shopping," she said, smiling because he didn't seem to mind the thought of going as her date. "And I'll plan for us to take a trip later on while I'm off."
Vegeta nodded. This event might be the perfect opportunity for them to finally go out together as an actual couple without the fuss of being followed by a dozen photographers and reporters and fans.
"You have to have fun at this though," she said as though reading his mind. "It's a social function, so I want you to let loose, have some drinks. You won't be on duty."
"I will try," he said. He wasn't sure he could completely shut off his observant nature. It was just who he was. He was always very aware of his surroundings and people around him even when he was on his own. "I suppose I'll need to rely on you to keep me in line."
She smiled and loved that he was acknowledging that he had a hard time shutting off. "Oh I will! Don't you worry. So it's too late now, but tomorrow let's go shopping."
He grunted and nodded.
-0-0-0-
The next day, Bulma was up early in the morning and was able to call one of her favourite formal wear shops to book an appointment for both Vegeta and herself. They would close the store for them for two hours that afternoon. That should be more than enough time for them to both find something suitable for the occasion.
They managed to leave Capsule Corporation without drawing too much attention to themselves and arrived at the store on time.
"Welcome, Miss. Briefs!" The store manager greeted her. "It's been a long time since we've had the pleasure of dressing you up for an event. Thank you for choosing our store."
"Thank you for closing for us for a few hours, you have no idea how much we both appreciate that." Bulma said, shaking the manager's hand.
"Well let's get started. What kind of event are you attending?"
"It's for the annual Capsule Corporation gala," Bulma told her. "So something formal for both of us."
"Excellent! We should have just the right thing for you both. Come!" They followed her further into the store. She turned to speak to Vegeta. "To the left is the men's wear department and our staff will be more than happy to fit you with a suit or tuxedo to your liking."
Vegeta nodded and headed off in the direction of the men's department. He wanted to get this done as quickly as possible.
"Whatever he wants, please charge it on my card," Bulma said discreetly to the store manager. "Don't let him pay."
"Understood, Miss Briefs," she nodded. "Happy shopping. If there's anything else you need, please do not hesitate to let me know! Take your time, you have two full hours."
Bulma began looking through the selections of ball gowns and cocktail dresses. She wasn't sure what she was in the mood for. She supposed it would be a good idea to choose something not too out there and more on the conservative side. She wondered what Vegeta's preference was in terms of formal wear? She hadn't thought to ask him until now.
She tried on a couple of dresses before finally settling on one. The next order of business was finding shoes and beautiful lingerie to wear… just in case, she told herself.
Vegeta was sitting in a chair at the checkout counter, patiently waiting for Bulma. He had chosen a basic, yet classic black tux, white shirt and royal blue bow tie. He was annoyed that the store manager had insisted that his attire had been paid for. While he understood the gesture, he felt very uncomfortable with allowing Bulma to pay for all of it.
As he sat there, his phone began to ring. He sighed as he pulled it out of his pocket. As he had suspected, it was his father. Again. Vegeta wasn't in the mood to talk to the man. He had not reached a decision yet and he did not want to be pressured and berated.
Bulma finally appeared; he hit ignore and stood as she thanked the store manager and staff again for their assistance, and they left. Their clothing would be delivered to her home the morning of the gala, as they both had some minor alterations that were needed.
"Why did you pay for my suit?" he asked her once they exited the store, on their way back to Bulma's vehicle.
"Because you don't have one for this function."
"I was under the impression that this was a social function and that I am not working," he pointed out.
"You aren't," she said. "It is social."
"Then you should not have paid for it," he said.
"It's not a big deal," she said. "I can't do something nice? Besides, it's not like you were warned to bring formal wear when you took this job on."
He sighed in annoyance, but let the matter drop. He wasn't comfortable with her spending money on him. Especially for something as expensive as formal wear. He was fully aware that she could more than afford it, but that wasn't the point.
By the time they were done and exiting the strip mall, word had gotten out that Bulma was out and about. There was a crowd of both fans and photographers waiting outside for them.
"Great," Vegeta growled.
"Let's just make a b-line for the car. We don't stop, don't engage, just go." She took his hand.
"Ready?" he asked and she nodded. "Let's go!" Vegeta opened the door and pulled Bulma along with him, behind him, keeping her close. He stuck his other arm out as they waded their way through the crowd of people.
"How are you feeling? When are you checking yourself into the hospital, miss Briefs?" someone asked.
"Can you give us some information about you, Vegeta? How old are you?"
They ignored everyone and did not stop or answer any of the questions they'd been bombarded with.
Vegeta opened the passenger car door for Bulma so she could get in and away from the demanding press.
"How long have you two been dating?"
"Is there a wedding in the near future?"
"Were you guys shopping for the wedding?"
"Can you confirm your pregnancy?"
Vegeta slammed the car door on his side as he got into the sports car. He was annoyed. Could she not shop like a normal person? Not only that, but could she not even book time to shop privately and maybe go out afterwards to enjoy herself without a crowd following her?
-0-0-0-
They kept a low profile the rest of the week.
The day of the event, Bulma had hired her best hair and make up team to help her get herself ready for the evening.
It had taken half the day, but finally they were ready to leave.
Bulma was sitting in her living room, waiting for Vegeta when he came out of his side of the apartment.
He nearly took her breath away, dressed up in his tuxedo. The cut and fit flattered his physique and suited him perfectly and she was amazed how gorgeous he looked. Usually guys who looked great in casual attire looked awkward in formal wear and men who looked amazing in formal wear or uniforms looked plain in casual wear. Not Vegeta. He could apparently pull anything off and look drop dead gorgeous, be it work, fancy formal function or casually dressed at home. It only occurred to her just then that she'd never really seen him in uniform, apart from a few action photos on his phone, and she'd be willing to bet half of her fortune he looked nothing short of gorgeous in that as well under normal circumstances. "Look at you, all red carpet ready!"
"You said nothing about walking down a red carpet," he answered with a frown.
"There isn't, I was teasing," she said. "But I now know who will be escorting me next time I'm at an event. You clean up nice,"
"Hmmmn, as do you," he grunted awkwardly and she noticed he was blushing slightly. The dress she had chosen was classy. It was a long off the shoulder dress; the left side was a long sleeve of black lace, whereas the other side did not have a sleeve, leaving her shoulder and arm bare. The lace travelled up her left arm and across the nude-coloured bust of the gown and fell at an angle to the right side. The other half of the gown was made of black silk. It was conservative yet classy; the only thing slightly scandalous about it was the slit in the skirt that came up to her upper thigh, revealing that she was wearing fishnet stockings and Vegeta wondered what else she was wearing beneath the gown. Her hair was up in a loose, but formal style, the curls of her hair cascading delicately around the nape of her neck in a low chignon. It was beautiful and flattering on her, but truthfully, he wanted to take the pins out and watch her hair fall naturally. Since that time she'd asked him to help her remove those ridiculous clip-in extensions from her hair, he'd been fascinated with it. He'd always loved her hair; the color and texture, the natural curl. Since then, however, he paid extra attention to her hair and he'd been waiting for a reason to touch it or run his fingers through it. He hoped she'd let him help her take it down later… should the evening go in that direction, of course.
"Do you have your phone?" Vegeta asked her, trying to distract himself from devouring her with his eyes.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Uhmm, a phone doesn't really go with this dress, Vegeta," she said, gesturing dramatically at herself.
"You will have it on you on the off chance something happens and we are separated," he said.
"Vegeta, it's a gala at my parent's place. I doubt anything will happen," she argued.
"I do not care," he sighed and grabbed her phone off the counter top. Surprisingly, it appeared to be fully charged. "Find a place for it."
Bulma rolled her eyes at him. "Fine," she sighed, taking her phone from him and stuffing it in the right side of her strapless bra under her armpit, where the tight bust of the gown would keep it secure. "Happy?"
"I knew you could figure something out," he said, content with her compromise.
"Remember, you're off tonight," she said, wiggling around and making sure her phone wouldn't go anywhere. "Which means, no glaring at visitors, you can let loose and have a few drinks. We're literally walking to the party. So, please, have fun!"
She grabbed her small, delicate hand bag that only had enough space to accommodate her lipstick and a capsule with a few other things she usually brought with her, in case of emergency, and off they went, across the compound and towards the large Capsule Corporation building.
They held hands as they walked together in silence. Of course, outside the building was the press, taking pictures. It wasn't a circus, only a handful of photographers.
"You're looking fine this evening," a tall gentleman said to Bulma as they approached. "May I take a few photos?"
Bulma looked at him for a moment. There was something familiar about him, but she couldn't place him. Many of the photographers were at every event. Some she knew by name and some she didn't. He was wearing a press badge, so she assumed that's where she'd seen him before. "Sure," she answered a moment later, smiling.
The man grinned as Bulma moved off to one side and posed nicely. He took a few pictures of her outside the Capsule Corporation entrance and looked her over almost a second beyond what was appropriate before inviting Vegeta to pose with her. "I'm sure you'd like to have a picture of yourself with your date," he said.
Vegeta shrugged. It would not be the first time he'd have had photos taken of himself with Bulma at an event. He supposed he'd better get used to it and awkwardly stood beside her. She took his hand.
"Perfect," the photographer said, snapping several photos of them. "Thank you."
"No problem," Bulma smiled, inwardly thrilled that not only had Vegeta posed for photos with her, but he had been alright with her holding his hand. Baby steps, she thought to herself. These would definitely be published all over the place. The main thing she was happy about was that clearly she had no baby bump, so hopefully the pregnancy rumours would be put to rest after tonight.
"Enjoy your evening and don't let her out of your sight," he said to Vegeta with a strange smile before walking away.
Vegeta glared after him for a moment. What a strange thing for someone to say.
"Don't worry about it," she rolled her eyes and began leading him inside. "He's paparazzi. They're all weird."
Vegeta grunted, but reluctantly went along with her.
"We're here to have fun tonight," she reminded him. "He's press and there's no press allowed inside. Forget about it."
Regardless, Vegeta would be keeping his eye on this person should they attend the dinner portion of the function.
They entered the main floor of one of the many Capsule Corporation buildings on the compound, which was a large building attached to her parent's residence. Vegeta had not been inside this part of the compound yet. It was large and spacious, almost like an exhibition centre or a theatre hall. It was tastefully decorated with flower bouquets as centerpieces on all of the tables, which lined a spacious dance floor. There was a live orchestra playing classical music on a small stage at the end of the hall. On the left side was a long buffet table of assorted food for dinner and desserts. Near the entrance on the left hand side was a bar. To the right of the spacious room was another table full of items and pamphlets.
"This is where my parents hold engineering conferences, press release meetings when we have a new launch line and for Christmas parties or things like this," she told him. "The bar is open, and I hope you take advantage, even if it's just a little. Over here is a silent auction. As well as information on our products and how to apply for not only financing, but scholarships and other programs to get a job with us. They always give away a couple of scholarships at these things, but there's also the option to apply."
Vegeta was quiet as he looked through some of the things available for both the auction and the draw; most were household bots for doing chores. Among the prizes in the draw was a capsule car, a capsule home and an all-expenses-paid vacation on a yacht including spa, meal and excursion vouchers. "Nice," he commented. "All of this is available to employees and the general public?"
"Yupp," she said proudly. "So long as you're present to claim it. However CEOs, managers, shareholders, other company bigwigs and myself, for example, are exempt. Anyone else is eligible, including you."
Being that he technically worked for Bulma, Vegeta decided he wasn't comfortable with that.
"Want to get a drink?" she asked him.
"Sure," he said and he followed her to the bar where she ordered a glass of red wine and a whiskey on ice for Vegeta.
Drinks in hand, Bulma migrated around the room, introducing Vegeta to everyone she stopped to visit with. To his absolute astonishment, not a single person asked either of them about the charity performance, their relationship status or anything else that was circulating in the tabloids. To be fair, Bulma introduced him as her friend and bodyguard, which was alright with him. However after about the third or fourth introduction, he found himself feeling like he wouldn't have minded if she had referred to him as her boyfriend. Of course, he knew that was his own fault and he was regretting that. What was he waiting for? Once again, he found himself taken by her. Here in this setting she was not treated like a celebrity by anyone, she knew the majority of her father's staff by name and was genuinely happy to catch up with everyone whom she crossed paths with. Here there was no celebrity or superstar ego or reporters or anyone following her around with a camera or asking for her autograph. It was refreshing to watch her be Bulma Briefs the person, not the Popstar. No one here seemed to care about her celebrity.
Vegeta also couldn't help but notice that there was no security at this event. There was no one minding the table with the prizes; some of which someone could easily walk away with. There was no security at the front of the building or at the entrance of the hall; Bulma had told him that anyone in attendance who did not work for Capsule Corporation had to have a ticket to get into the event. That made sense, but who was keeping track? He didn't see anyone.
Rather than asking her, he kept his thoughts to himself. This evening was supposed to be fun, and so far he was having a good time. Bulma hadn't abandoned him to visit with people she knew, she'd done everything to make sure he felt comfortable and included in conversations. She looked and smelled absolutely amazing. Why was he looking for flaws and potential threats?
He took a sip of his whiskey he was nursing and made a point of not over analyzing his surroundings. This is supposed to be fun, he remembered Bulma telling him. However, he still found himself scanning the room every so often, looking for that creepy photographer. So far, he had not seen him.
"How are you two?" Bulma's mother greeted them. "You both look absolutely wonderful!"
"Thanks mom, as do you." Bulma said to her mother who was wearing a very simple, yet elegant black gown.
"This is all very nice," Vegeta said.
"Make sure you enter your name in the draw, Vegeta," she said to him. "Did you decide where you are sitting? Dinner is going to be served soon,"
"Where are you guys sitting?" Bulma asked her.
"Table on the far end near where the prizes start," she replied, pointing to the far end of the room where the dinner tables started.
"Wanna take a seat?" Bulma asked Vegeta. She didn't want him to feel overwhelmed by all of the people there and didn't want him to feel like he was an outsider.
"Sure," he nodded and they headed towards that side of the room.
"Hey guys!"
They both turned and noticed Goku and Chi Chi waving at them.
"Hey!" Bulma greeted them. "I'm so glad you're here!" It was nice that someone else was here that Vegeta knew, other than her and her family.
"Wouldn't miss it! The food at these Capsule Corporation parties is always amazing," Goku said, reaching out to shake Vegeta's hand. "Good to see you both."
"Kakarott," Vegeta nodded in greeting, feeling somewhat relieved that there was someone else he knew present.
"You both look fantastic!" Bulma said to both Goku and Chi Chi.
"So do you!" Chi Chi said, giving Bulma a hug. "How have you been? We saw in the news you weren't well, and we'd wanted to call you, but then saw the performance and you looked well… more than well, actually. How are you?"
"I'm good," Bulma shrugged. "I'm off for the next few months to relax and destress. Really nothing exciting is happening."
"Well you wouldn't know it by the way the media is carrying on," Chi Chi said. "This week you're pregnant, next week you've had a miscarriage and the week after that you're pregnant again and you two are engaged!"
"See? Same old," Bulma shrugged. "How about you guys? How's Gohan? I haven't seen him since the concert."
"I know, we've been awful friends. He's great though! He started walking recently,"
"Hey, no judgement here, I'm just as bad of a friend," Bulma said. "I haven't called you either. Come sit and have dinner with us."
"Absolutely! We just got here," Goku said.
"I'm going to go get a glass of wine and we'll come join you," Chi Chi said. "Anyone want anything while I'm there?"
"I'll have a beer!" Goku said.
"No, thank you," Vegeta shook his head. He was still on his first whiskey.
"There's wine at the tables, I'll wait until dinner," Bulma said. Since the night in the hottub, she'd been carefully watching her alcohol intake. She also didn't want to over indulge tonight just in case Vegeta decided tonight was the night. She hadn't missed the way he'd been looking at her all night; hell if it wouldn't offend her parents, she'd have been game to abandon the gala and spend the rest of the evening with Vegeta upstairs at her place. However, all jokes aside, she knew that if he thought she was the least bit inebriated, nothing would happen tonight and she didn't want to do anything to put him off. At the moment, she figured their chances of taking that step forward tonight seemed to be pretty good, though she still wasn't going to hold her breath.
Chi Chi left the three of them to get a glass of wine and the others made their way to take a seat before dinner was announced.
"So, I see you've added the job title backup dancer to your resume, Vegeta?" Goku asked with a grin as they sat down.
"I do not want to talk about it."
"You looked like a pro out there though," Goku went on. "I mean I wouldn't have been able to pull that off. How did Bulma sweet talk you into doing that?"
"Lapis had an issue with flights and didn't make it," Bulma told him. "He was supposed to do two songs with me and I'd been hospitalized the previous day because I'd fainted at rehearsals. I managed to do the first two songs alright on my own, but I was too exhausted to do the last and about five minutes before I needed to do it, I asked Vegeta. If it hadn't been for him, I'd have probably collapsed on stage in front of everyone on national television."
"Well, Chi Chi and I thought you guys both did great,"
"Thanks," she smiled. "Did Vegeta tell you the best part?"
"No, what?"
"The label wants him to star in my next video!"
"No way! Really? That's pretty cool!"
"It is not happening, under any circumstances, so there is no need to get excited about it," Vegeta said. He'd actually forgotten about that. Bulma hadn't brought it up again since the morning Yamcha had been over.
"Aw you sure, Vegeta? That's a pretty exciting opportunity."
"I am very sure."
Bulma shrugged and shook her head. "The man has spoken. I'll just ask Lapis and hopefully he'll be able to do it."
"How is he?" Goku asked. "I haven't seen him in so long. I think I saw something about him doing choreography in the States?"
"On Broadway in New York!" Bulma said.
"Wow! Good for him!"
"Yea, he's doing amazing. Trying to convince him not to poach his sister from my dance team, but I'm sure it's only a matter of time."
"Maybe not," Goku shrugged. "I don't think Broadway is her thing. I could be wrong, but that just never seemed to be something she'd be interested in."
"We'll see. I'm off for the time being, so I wouldn't blame her if she did. She's busy all on her own though doing other videos and shows."
An announcement that dinner was ready was made and everyone lined up to grab their meal from the buffet table.
The orchestra continued to play music while everyone enjoyed dinner. Conversation was casual and Bulma introduced Vegeta to a few more people as the dinner went on and people walked past their table as they ate.
Soon, dessert was served, the dishes had been cleared, announcements from Mr. and Mrs. Briefs had been made, and winners of the draw had been announced. The way they ran it, when a name was drawn, the individual drawn could choose whichever out of the available prizes they wanted. The items for the silent auction were still up for grabs, presumably because people liked spending money when they'd had a few drinks in their system. Those would be called out and claimed later on.
Now people were drinking and dancing and the party was in full swing.
"Will you dance with me this time?" Bulma asked with a sweet smile. "You're not on duty and you told me that time at the club that you'd dance with me another time."
"Hmmmm," he grunted. "Well first off, I said maybe some other time; therefore that is a non commitment and I do believe you cashed that in several times over by asking me to perform with you in front of a live audience and on live television."
Bulma narrowed her eyes playfully at him, looking for a quick retort, but didn't have one. He was right and she knew it. "Well, would you dance with me anyway just to have fun and to say we did?"
Vegeta relented and offered her his hand. She would nag him all night until he agreed anyway. "I suppose," he mockingly bristled. "But I do not dance well."
"Hee! Nice try!," she chortled. "You keep forgetting that you proved that you absolutely can dance. I can pull it up off of YouTube if you need reminding."
"That is fine," he said, leading her to the dance floor where there were plenty of couples slow dancing to the classical music the orchestra was playing.
Vegeta placed his hand on her waist and drew her close as she took his hand and placed her other arm across his shoulder. He felt awkward, but moved slowly with her to the song that played.
"Not so bad, is it?" she asked, playfully.
"It is bearable," he agreed. She smelled amazing. Whatever she was wearing was simply divine.
Mrs. Briefs smiled as she noticed them dancing and was very quick to grab her phone to discreetly take a picture of the two of them together.
"You dance very well, you know that? You really don't give yourself enough credit."
He grunted in reply.
"Where did you learn?" she asked him.
"Just because I grew up in military circles, does not mean I never went to parties," he said. "My father is always invited to galas and other formal functions. Usually for retirement or promotion parties. Learning to waltz made the evenings go by quicker than standing on the sidelines like a wallflower."
"So who taught you?"
"The wife of a general who is close with my father," he answered. "At the time I was too young for cigars and brandy after dinner. I hated those formal functions and apparently my face made that abundantly clear. So the wife of a general who is close to my father, decided one night to teach me. She was as bored at those functions as I was because she was left to her own devices as well."
"Aww that's kinda sweet," Bulma smiled. "How old were you?"
"I am not sure, actually. Eight, maybe?" he said. "Young. No one else brought their children to functions like that until I was maybe twelve or thirteen?"
"So, did you just learn waltz?"
"No, I learned whatever's typical for ballroom dancing. I do not know." He shrugged.
Bulma smiled at him. He still didn't open up much about himself, but she loved it when he did give her a glimpse of his past. The more she got to know him, the more she found herself enamoured with him. "Any other interesting secrets about your upbringing that you'd like to share?"
"Not particularly," he said. He was distracted and ready to leave, but was waiting for the right opportunity to see if she'd leave with him.
The song they were dancing to came to an end and rather than going into another slow song, this one was upbeat and people were forming a line to do the bunny hop dance.
"Come on, you guys!" Bulma's mother said, grabbing Chi-Chi's hand and rushing to join the line.
Bulma looked at Vegeta in amusement, wondering if he'd join or not.
He watched everyone on the dance floor for a moment; it was clear many were inebriated. Goku was second in line doing the ridiculous party dance and he knew he wasn't up for that. It wasn't him.
"Do you want to get out of here?" he asked Bulma suddenly, before taking the time to think it through. He wasn't sure how long they'd been dancing, but he was ready to leave if she was and if she wanted to continue the evening in private, he was more than ready to oblige. Screw his principals, he wanted her and he was getting tired of denying himself.
"Hmmm, I could be persuaded," she said playfully, turning to him in interest. The low baritone of his voice had made her stomach flutter. "What did you have in mind?"
Vegeta shrugged. He had no plan. He truthfully had been ready to leave since dinner was finished. He didn't mind dancing with Bulma, or being in the company of her parents, Kakarott and his wife, but there were too many people here and he was beginning to feel claustrophobic. Not to mention all he'd been thinking about the last while was kissing her and he wanted to do a whole lot more than that, which brought him back to the current conundrum: the fact that he was also no good at this flirting business, but somehow asking her if she wanted to go back to her place to finally fuck didn't have the right ring to it. She was much more to him than a mindless hookup or a conquest on his bucket list because of her celebrity. If tonight was the big night, he wanted to take his time and for them both to really explore and enjoy one another. It just seemed right. They'd had a fantastic dinner and danced together all evening. Sure they'd both had a few drinks with dinner, but neither of them was inebriated. The only thing that would make the evening better would be to go upstairs and have their own celebration.
She sensed his nervousness and decided to take the lead and help him out a bit. "You know what?"
"Hmmn?"
"I have some champagne in the fridge I've been saving for a special occasion. We could make a quiet escape from here and go enjoy a few glasses of champagne in the hot tub and some snacks and see what the night brings, if you want."
"That sounds like an acceptable solution," he said with a smirk, relieved that she seemed to have picked up on what it was he was thinking. However, he wasn't sure about the hot tub. Too high risk of people spying on them. The rest of what she'd said sounded perfect though.
She smiled. "Give me a moment to freshen up and we'll blow this popsicle stand."
"I'll be here." He nodded, letting her go.
Bulma bit her bottom lip as she gave him a flirtatious smile before leaving to use the restroom the next floor up. Sure it was silly, but she wanted to make sure she still looked and smelled perfect. She had every intention of making out with him in the elevator all the way up to her apartment. She couldn't do that if her breath was bad.
She was almost certain they wouldn't make it to the hot tub, but the bath in her bedroom was a large, deep soaker tub with jets, probably large enough to accommodate 4 people. Not that she'd ever taken advantage of that, but it was indoors and private; they wouldn't have to worry about anyone photographing them like they would if they decided to go for a dip in the outside hot tub and things got heated between them.
Not to mention they could still enjoy some snacks and champagne. She could dim the lights and there was a large skylight above the bathtub, making for a very romantic setting. She regretted now that she didn't have any candles, but that was alright.
-0-0-0-
Vegeta took a seat at their table and exhaled. Why was he so nervous? It wasn't like he'd never slept with a woman before. He wouldn't say he'd been with tons of women before now, but he'd been around enough to be confident that he wouldn't disappoint her. The difference now being that he really had feelings for her. She wasn't just a convenience or a means to blow off pent up stress after a particularly bad day or mission. He actually wanted to see where something between them would go.
The month they'd been off together had been nearly perfect, aside from the constant presence of the press. He wasn't naïve enough to not know that things would change after she was ready to go back to work; they couldn't just live this fantasy forever. But he was feeling fairly confident that he could juggle being both a significant other and a protector to her. Or at the least, he was finally ready to see if he could. If he couldn't, what was the worst that could happen? He could always hire someone else to do the job and still work as a part of her security detail, he supposed.
The anxiety of screwing things up began to wash through him again and he realized he was getting too far ahead of himself.
Right now, all he needed to be concerned about was enjoying the rest of the evening with the woman he didn't mind breaking his rules for. The rest could wait, he told himself as he finished his now watered-down whiskey while he was waiting for Bulma to come back.
-0-0-0-
Bulma took her shoes off as soon as she knew she likely wouldn't be seen by anyone, and booked it up the stairs. Her heart was pounding. Never could she remember being so nervous or excited to spend the night with a guy! It had been so long since she'd been intimate with a man, she wanted it to be perfect. For the first time in a long time, she was certain she was with someone who valued her for simply being her. She knew she didn't have to be afraid that Vegeta was only using her and would never call her again, but instead call every scandal rag magazine in the country, or treat her poorly afterwards. This was it!
She decapsulated her overnight bag, which she always took everywhere, no matter where she went. She brushed her teeth, touched up her makeup, reapplied her lipstick and spritzed herself with her favourite perfume.
Finally, she struck a pose in front of the mirror, giving herself a once over before berating herself. Vegeta likely wouldn't care how she looked. He lived with her and saw her without makeup on constantly. Especially since she'd been off. Nonetheless, she wanted to make sure she looked nothing short of perfect for him.
She quickly packed up her stuff and exited the bathroom, only to be greeted by a man in a black suit, looking as though he had been waiting for her.
"I'm sorry, sir, but this area is off limits to guests," she said, despite being startled by his presence. However she immediately recognized him as the photographer who'd asked to photograph both her and Vegeta earlier. "I can show you where the guest washrooms are, as this area is private, residential property."
"Give me your phone," he said quietly and discreetly showed her a gun.
Bulma's stomach dropped and suddenly Vegeta's immediate dislike of him earlier didn't seem inappropriate now. She blinked several times as she thought quickly and replied, "I… I don't have my phone on me."
"Bullshit."
"I don't, honest." If Vegeta had not insisted she have it before they'd left, she wouldn't have had it and if this was happening again, she most certainly wasn't giving up her phone if she could avoid it.
"You expect me to believe that?"
"Take a good look at me, does it really look like a phone goes with this dress?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips, trying to sound confident, but she could already feel her hands beginning to shake.
He looked at her. She had a point. "Fine. You are coming with me. Get moving. A peep from you and I'll take out your parents and anyone else down there who gets in my way. Do not test me."
"Alright," she said, her voice cracking as she fought to remain calm and tried to think of a way to stall him. The longer she was gone and remained here, the easier it would be for Vegeta to find her. She had no doubt that if he hadn't already wondered what was taking her so long, he would soon.
-0-0-0-
Vegeta looked at his phone for the third time. It had been nearly twenty minutes since Bulma had left to freshen up. He didn't fully understand what that meant, or why she felt it necessary; he thought she looked and smelled more than fine, but he did not want to message her in case he came off as impatient, and thus kill the mood.
He sat watching everyone else at the gathering. They had moved on to silly party games he'd never understood the point of. Most of the guests were drunk, so no one cared about how ridiculous they looked. Currently they were setting things up for musical chairs.
"Can we have these?" Goku asked him, pointing to two chairs next to him.
"Take them."
"Bring two, one for yourself and one for Bulma,"
"I will pass, thank you," he said. He could tell his friend was tipsy.
"Where's Bulma? She's been gone for a while," Goku asked.
"She went to the washroom," he answered.
"Is she feeling okay?"
"Yea, she's fine," Vegeta snapped. "She's just…"
"Ahh, she went to freshen up?" Goku asked, wagging his eyebrows as he watched Vegeta squirm uncomfortably. Vegeta could almost see the lightbulb go off in his head as he made the connection. "Hmm, good for you, Vegeta. I'd really hoped you two would hit it off."
Vegeta grunted, he could feel himself growing warm from embarrassment. "So how long does freshening up typically take?"
Goku shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine, my friend. Sometimes Chi Chi is really quick, but sometimes it takes her forever! But… when it does take her a long time, it's usually worth it," he winked at his friend. "Enjoy the rest of your evening. We'll get together real soon, like actually this time!"
Vegeta watched his friend drag out three chairs to add to the circle of musical chairs they were preparing. He was somewhat embarrassed his friend knew they were leaving to have something of their own private party, but it relaxed him that sometimes, apparently, women took a while to freshen up. He looked at his phone again… twenty four minutes.
What was she doing?
-0-0-0-
The man led her through her parent's place and out the front door, where they had no chance of running into guests who may have been outside having a smoke. Bulma did not protest, but went with him amicably, hoping Vegeta would have noticed by this time that she had been gone a bit longer than necessary and bypass her exit with this person. He had a gun and she did not want anyone to get shot this time, nor did she want to cause a scene and have any possible lingering press catch wind of this; everyone would think it was staged.
Unfortunately, they ran into no one and she found herself in the back seat of his vehicle. It took everything within her to keep a calm demeanor rather than turn into an emotional basket case. Vegeta wouldn't have a meltdown, she told herself, and found strength in that.
Bulma sat quietly in the back seat of the vehicle, where the man quickly zip tied her wrists in front of her. As the moment dragged, she was inwardly pleading that Vegeta was already looking for her. It was dark already, but hopefully he'd notice her sitting in the car… or not, she thought dejectedly. The windows were likely tinted so no one would see her.
"Just cooperate and everything will be fine," the man said to her, doing her seatbelt and doing up his own, next to her.
"You don't have to do this," she said quietly. She'd been trying to sound calm, but she knew she didn't. She was trying to keep her breathing normal, was swallowing the heavy lump in her throat and blinking lots to keep her eyes from watering because she wanted to cry. "Please, just let me go back inside. No one will have noticed yet that I'm gone, I won't even tell anyone."
"Shut up," he said, his gun still trained on her.
She looked at him and tried to remember where she'd seen him from, but she still couldn't place it. This wasn't the same man who had taken her last time.
"You don't know me," he said. "But I know you."
Bulma decided she recognized him as one of the regular photographers who usually followed her around. "You were at the coffee shop several months back and asked me about my abduction on my way back to my vehicle, weren't you?"
"I'm shocked you remember," he said.
If only she could text Vegeta and send him a pin drop of her location. She hoped he didn't think she'd simply bailed on him. No… she told herself. He wouldn't think that. He'll know something is wrong.
Not five minutes later, she felt her phone vibrating and she squeezed her arm to her side to hopefully keep it hidden. Her stomach flipped in excitement and something else, relief maybe? Vegeta had noticed that she was gone.
"Why are you smiling?" he asked.
"Because my bodyguard will have noticed my absence by now and he'll come for me," she said confidently. "Unless you just drop me off at the next set of lights. I'll call him from a pay phone and tell him I went for a walk because it was too crowded in there."
"Why don't we do that anyways?" he asked. She was right, her bodyguard would likely have noticed by now. He had been certain that tonight wouldn't have given him the opportunity. Thankfully, he'd been persistent and things had fallen into place. "Call him from a pay phone and tell him that so he does not worry."
"Because I'm not dumb enough to do that. We're away from the party and my parents. So you don't have any leverage anymore." She shrugged, trying to remain calm and come off as confident. Inside, however, she was a mess.
He looked at her and frowned, noting that her hands were shaking despite her bravado. "Don't think I won't go back and do something to them if you don't watch yourself."
Bulma nodded and didn't say anything more. She highly doubted that he would have the driver turn the car around and actually do something, not at such a large event. They'd taken her, undetected. To go back would be too risky. However, she did not want to put her parents or anyone else at risk. She'd felt her phone buzzing several times now; she was certain it was Vegeta. She would wait until she was alone and she would message him.
The driver was stopped at a traffic light and the man beside her snapped his fingers and pointed to the glove box. The driver leaned in and opened it, reached in and handed the man a small fabric square.
Bulma held her breath, unsure of what it was. She was beginning to feel light headed and she was trying to keep the shakes at bay.
"Sorry," the man said, unfolding the fabric square. It was a pillowcase. He put it over her head. "Can't have you knowing where we're going."
Immediately, she began to shake and she controlled the urge to begin hyperventilating. They'd done this to her last time as well.
The rest of the drive was silent and she did her best to remain calm. Somewhere along the way, she'd lost track of the left and right turns and she was thankful she had her phone. She could send Vegeta a pin once she had a moment alone.
The vehicle finally came to a stop and she waited until someone opened her door and helped her out. They escorted her out of the vehicle and she did not try to run or fight the person off, despite her panic. She had her phone this time, she reminded herself as she let the person lead her to wherever they were taking her.
It felt like a long walk. She was clearly walking on grass. So they weren't taking her to a hotel like last time, which set her on edge. Finally, they stopped and she heard someone unlocking a door; someone else had a hold on her upper right arm.
She was carefully guided into a building and she heard another lock being undone. They indicated that she had to go down a ladder or steep stairs, she wasn't sure which, and so she did, slowly, until she reached the bottom. The door above her was closed and she assumed she was in a basement or cellar somewhere, as it was cool.
Someone led her a few more feet before coming to a stop and the pillow case came off.
Bulma exhaled heavily, her panic combined with the restriction of something over her head had been stressful. She was in a small, cement and dirt room that almost looked like a jail cell. There was a blanket, a pillow, two bottles of water, a box of crackers, roll of paper towel and bucket set neatly in one corner and her heart sank at the thought that she was possibly going to be here for a while. This was clearly better thought out than the first time she'd been abducted.
The man beckoned to her; a pair of scissors in his hands. Bulma walked up to him and held out her wrists. He cut the zip ties and walked away.
"What happens now?" she asked him.
"Nothing." He said and left the room. He'd left a single light on, which left her with some light, but not much.
As soon as she heard him lock the door, she went for her phone.
There were seven missed calls and a text from Vegeta asking something playful about her whereabouts and if she needed rescuing. Her heart sank at the thought that he and her parents must be worried sick about her.
911 She texted him and immediately the message was read and relief flooded through her when she could see that he was responding.
Where the fuck are you?!
Bulma smiled despite herself and sent him a pin, hoping that would help him. She quickly sent him a flurry of texts following the pin:
Can't talk long. Doesn't kno I have my phone… It's the photographer we spoke with.
He'll b back soon.
I'm here. With him. Residential basement or garage I think?
Come ASAP!
On it. Vegeta replied immediately. Are U Ok?
Yes
There was a pause and she saw that he had read the message but was not responding. She was about to put her phone away, not wanting to push her luck, but wanted to help Vegeta.
He's armed. One handgun.
Not bald. Brush cut. Different guy.
In a small room in a home…? Basement.
Be careful.
Bulma looked at the battery life of her phone, thankful now that she'd taken Vegeta's advice and not only had it with her, but she'd kept it charged. It should have enough battery life to be good for at least a day and a half. Maybe two since it wasn't like she'd be browsing on the internet. In a quick attempt to save as much battery life as possible, she shut off all notifications for anything other than text messages and set it to silent, rather than vibrate before slipping her phone back down the side of her dress, thankful that she'd been able to let Vegeta know where she was. She was confident it would not be long now and he'd be here to take her home.
-0-0-0-
Vegeta stormed out of the gala and headed back towards Bulma's apartment in a rage. He'd texted her something stupid once the half an hour mark had come and gone and when he'd still not heard from her, even after calling her, he headed off in the direction she'd gone to see if perhaps something had happened. His heart had literally dropped when he'd noticed her shoes on the floor, outside the bathroom and her small handbag on the counter top, the lights still on.
He'd gone through the house, looking around to see if possibly she was around somewhere, or if someone had taken her, maybe he could intercept them, but he couldn't find her anywhere. He'd called her several times, but no answer. He didn't bother leaving her a message, but was encouraged that her phone was at least on, as it rang several times before going to voicemail. He debated on letting her parents know, but did not want to cause a scene in front of everybody if it wasn't an emergency.
As he decided it was a good idea to get Justice and see if he could sniff out where she'd gone, she'd finally texted him and he was filled with the feeling of relief, guilt and dread…
And anger. Anger at himself.
Whoever her assailant was, he'd been smart and had bided his time while he'd been sitting around drinking an alcoholic beverage and anticipating getting laid. The smug son of a bitch had even told him to not let her out of his sight! How could he have been so stupid as to let his guard down like that? Why hadn't he escorted her to the washroom and waited for her? Her home or not, there were over a hundred people gathered here without security clearance or background checks. He'd been thinking with his cock all night and not with his head and now Bulma was gone.
This was exactly why he'd been adamant about keeping their relationship strictly professional- You couldn't do both!
Not effectively!
He'd known that and had gone against not only everything he knew, but against his better instincts and now Bulma would be paying the price for his sloppiness and weakness. It was inexcusable. Just like it had been inexcusable to have allowed his men to persuade him into going the way they had that day while on mission. Why couldn't he ever do anything fucking right when it mattered?
He took the elevator to Bulma's suite. The elevator seemed to take forever to reach the top as he seethed and struggled to keep his breathing calm and even and not throw his fist into the side wall. He felt dizzy, and warm and nauseous all at the same time; the air felt heavy.
The tuxedo he was wearing now felt constricting and uncomfortable. He undid the bow tie and loosened the top few buttons of his shirt so he could breathe. The temperature somehow seemed to be rising and he felt like he was suffocating. Even his ears felt like they were ringing, as though an explosion had just happened.
The elevator finally came to a stop after what felt like an eternity and he made his way inside her suite. The first thing he saw was an empty glass on the kitchen counter top. Without even thinking, he grabbed it and launched it at a wall as hard as he could, shattering it and making a decent dent in the wall.
"Fuck!" he cursed between gritted teeth as the shakes began to set in and he felt like the temperature in the room had dropped to below freezing, even though he was so hot, he could barely breathe. He took a deep breath and exhaled heavily before harshly bracing against the countertop; his knuckles turning white and his head between his arms as if he was trying to move it. He remained that way and took several deep, controlled breaths as he waited for the tremors and the nauseous feeling in his stomach to pass; doing his best to not pass out from hyperventilation. He didn't have time for a full blown panic attack, not to mention it was not him in danger, so why was he having a meltdown like a weak fool?
Justice silently sat down next to him and comfortingly leaned into his left side against his leg and looked at him.
Vegeta remained that way until he felt somewhat in control of himself. It would do no good trashing Bulma's place or crawling into a corner to have a panic attack. He let his left hand release the counter top and brushed his fingers along the top of Justice's head. His mind void and not thinking of anything other than his breathing for several minutes as he stroked the soft fur on the dog's head and ears. The deaf silence in the apartment was soothing and helped calm him down to where he could finally form a rational thought. He slowly felt the familiar feeling of numbness begin taking root as he began to shut down emotionally.
He had to.
This was a feeling he understood and knew well. It wouldn't do Bulma any good if he was high on emotion right now. It was that thought that brought him out of it. He did not have time to waste, he needed to get out there and find her. Now.
Dizziness and nausea slowly fading away, he stood up; making a point of focusing on his breathing. He left the glass mess he'd made as his mind settled and he began to think practically again. He needed to change out of his tuxedo and he needed to get to a police station immediately.
Changed into his trademark cargo pants and dark t-shirt, he checked his gun and downed an ice cold bottle of water. Refreshed and refocused, he was ready to work.
Whoever this asshole was, he'd made a gross tactical error tonight. He would find this person, with or without the help of the police. So help them if they did any harm to his Bulma.